


Medical Evaluation

by RiverSoul



Category: House M.D., Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 14:57:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2656199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverSoul/pseuds/RiverSoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Have you ever wondered what would happen if Sherlock and House meet? This is what happened. Like, seriously, that's what happened, it's not my fault! XD #donthate #heresomecookies #pleasetellmeifishouldgoonwiththis</p>
            </blockquote>





	Medical Evaluation

Wilson was telling House about his day, but he could clearly tell that the other man was distracted. “Am I boring you?”, he asked in an irritated manner. 

“You see those two men over there?”, House asked in turn, clearly ignoring his friend’s question. He nodded towards a small middle-aged man with blond hair, which was already greying at the temples, and a tall, rather good-looking dark-haired man with high cheekbones and alabaster-white skin, who were sitting at the table next to them. 

“What about them?”, Wilson asked, interested despite his annoyance. 

“The smaller of the two obviously wants to sleep with the other one, but is too worried about his 'image' as a straight man to do anything about it right now,” House explained.

Wilson laughed. “Just because you managed to 'turn me over' doesn't mean that everyone wants to have gay sex now, House.” Even though he had to admit that the way the blond looked up at the taller man in admiration seemed rather obvious to him too. 

“Want me to test my theory, Jimmy?”, House asked, smiling deviously. And before Wilson could say or do anything, he turned around and shouted over to the two men: “Oh come on, don’t be a sissy, fuck him already!” 

“House,” Wilson said warningly, but it was already too late. 

“Excuse you!”, the blond shouted back, blushing furiously. Luckily, the place was crowded and nobody else seemed to have the remark. 

The taller man turned around to get a better view of who had insulted his friend. Wilson almost swallowed his tongue. So far, he had only seen the man in profile, and, despite not being into men in general, had liked what he had seen. But it had been nothing to what he saw now. This man was gorgeous: Voluminous. soft-looking lips, high cheekbones, striking green eyes, and above all a shock of curly brown hair. However, the man didn’t say anything, just looked at them. At House, to be precise. 

“I’m sorry,” Wilson told him, now also blushing slightly, “My friend didn’t have his pills today.” 

The smaller man’s eyes went soft and he smiled at him. “Oh, it’s alright, really, it’s all fine, I understand.” 

“You do?”, Wilson asked, confused. 

“Fine? Does that mean you are out and proud?”, House implored. 

“House, really, that’s none of our…”, Wilson started, but the tall man interrupted him: 

“You’re a doctor, but not an ordinary one,” he said to House, “you work at a hospital, but unlike most of the other doctors there, you don't have a special field. In fact, you made it a point in making everything your speciality. You are able to 'solve' the most complicated cases and thank that nobody can beat your massive intellect, but there is one thing you clearly can't beat: death. That’s why you have to interfere in other people’s business and insult as many people as you can, hoping that making them feel bad about themselves will somehow reduce the frustration you feel thinking about your own life.”

“Sherlock…”, the smaller man started, but clearly didn’t know how to go on, as he was obviously impressed by his friends ‘deductions’.  
“Why don’t you come over, sit at our table?”, Wilson suggested, “It'll be easier to talk.” He didn't even know if those two wanted to talk, but he certainly didn't want to miss a chance to find out more about this interesting ‘couple’, who, in a way, seemed so much like House and his truly. 

Maybe the taller man – Sherlock – had the same or similar thoughts, as he got up first and came over to them. House held out his hand: “House.” The dark-haired man shook and said: “Holmes, Sherlock Holmes.” The blond sighed and came over with a slight limp in his step, introducing himself as John Watson. “James Wilson”, Wilson said and shook his hand. 

“The James Wilson?”, Watson asked, “The oncologist?”

“Jimmy, you are famous,” House laughed. 

Wilson couldn’t help himself, but blushed again. “You’ve heard from me?”

“Oh yes,” Watson answered eagerly, “I’ve read some of your publications! It was very interesting what you wrote about talking to patients in a way that would make it easier for them to live with cancer.” 

House rolled his eyes. “You are supposed to cure cancer, Wilson, not write about sentiment.” 

Holmes looked at House with interest. “You don’t care about this either, do you? And you don’t care about what I said before?” 

“Why should I?”, House retorted, “It was all true. The term you were looking for is ‘diagnostician’, by the way.”

“Oh, that’s interesting, I’ve never heard of that word,” Watson remarked.

“No, I think I’m the only one,” House prided himself. 

This time it was Wilson’s turn to roll his eyes. “You too are both doctors too, then?”, he asked. 

“Oh no,” Watson explained, “I’m a doctor, he is a detective.” “A consulting detective,” Holmes specified. 

“A consulting detective? As in consulting the police, but otherwise working privately?”, House asked. 

“Exactly,” Holmes answered, “I invented the term by the way.” 

Wilson started laughing. “What’s funny about that?”, Holmes asked. 

“Oh nothing,” Wilson hurried to say, “you two are just so similar!” Watson started laughing too. 

“Not THAT similar,” Holmes retorted, “We might both have an intellect which is above average, but to me that seems to be the only similarity. He's the one with the limp in your relationship, for example.”

“Relationship… how did you guess?”, Wilson stammered. 

“Just ignore him”, Watson told them and winked at Wilson, “He does that.”

“Oh, yours too?”, Wilson blurted out, “House does this all the time. If I got a penny for each embarrassing conversation I had to witness, I would be rich by now!” 

“Aren’t you interested how I found that out?”, Sherlock asked, clearly annoyed that the conversation was getting away from him.  
“Well, I guess the cane gave it away,” House remarked sarcastically. 

“It doesn’t give away that you are trying to compensate by making sure you are always the dominant one in your relationship,” Holmes countered. 

House snorted: “It’s neither hard to dominate someone like Wilson, nor would he like it any other way.”

“We could just leave,” Watson suggested, “they could compare their intellects at length and we wouldn’t have to witness the embarrassment.”

“Yes, good idea,” House agreed, “leave us alone and let me find out in peace why the topic of dominance was brought up in the first place.” 

Alarm bells went off in Wilson’s head. Only a week ago, he had told his lover that, should he ever find someone as smart as himself, House was allowed to 'experiment' on them. Granted, Wilson had never bothered to tell his friend and lover that of course this had been a joke and he had been really drunk when he had said that, but who would have thought that only a few days later a man would turn up whose intellect could compete with House's? 

“Of course you reached a conclusion like that,” Holmes remarked, “I only mentioned dominance because I feel strangely attracted to your manliness. I’m light-skinned and thin-limbed, has to mean I’m vulnerable, because ‘delicate features’ must equal vulnerable little virgin, this is what this ‘brilliant’ mind of yours has come up with, hasn’t it?”

Wilson almost winced at how accurately this man seemed to have read House’s thoughts, but Watson didn’t seem impressed, this time. “Ok, leaving it is,” he declared, “I didn’t come to Los Angeles to talk about sexual preferences with strangers in a pub.” 

He got up and started to leave, but then turned around again and asked: “Are you coming, Wilson?”

Wilson hesitated. He didn’t really want to leave House alone with this man, but on the other hand he didn’t think his lover would do anything like cheat on him with another man. Right now, it looked more like those two would rip each other’s throats out. Not an ideal situation either, granted, but Wilson was tired and would rather not get between the fronts right now. Besides, Watson seemed rather confident that it was alright to leave and it would be interesting – and less dangerous than staying – to go with him and talk about what it was like to be in a relationship with a brilliant lunatic. 

“Sure,” Wilson said and followed Watson out of the restaurant. 

For some time, House and Holmes just stared at each other in silence. 

Then, House asked: “So, your place or mine?`”

Holmes snorted. “A single hotel room with thin walls and complaining neighbours or a real apartment with lots of opportunities, you really think that’s a choice?” 

“My place it is, then,” House smirked.


End file.
